


Suffocate

by Cheshyr



Series: Sibilance [2]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 18:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: Tommy and Nikki are together, but the secrecy is wearing on Tommy. And a lot of things are wearing on Nikki.(Sequel to "Shiver//Shake")
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: Sibilance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534076
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	Suffocate

On God, Tommy couldn’t believe his plan had actually worked.

To be fair, at first it had been spectacularly _not working_. And honestly, he hadn’t even been thinking long-term when he felt a lightbulb in his brain and offered his bed to keep Nikki warm- he just wanted to greedily get a little closer to the bassist, and if he could keep the other man warm at the same time, well, win-win. 

But every single night Nikki wound up colder and farther away. At the time, Tommy couldn’t fathom why Nikki kept agreeing to come back. 

Then Nikki started shaking.

Tommy’s heart broke a little as he watched the bassist struggle to breathe, trembling viciously, trying to hide, trying to run. In that moment, Tommy had been certain he had ruined everything. He had obviously overstepped and freaked Nikki out with his underhanded attempts at closeness. Maybe it was karma for his deception, but that didn’t feel fair because Nikki was the one hurting. 

He had been fully prepared to apologize, leave, and walk directly into the ocean when Nikki kissed him. _Nikki kissed him._ It felt like his brain shorted out and he was more than a little convinced that this was a very vivid fever dream, because there was no way, there was just no way the beautiful, talented, amazing man beneath him was kissing him. 

But he _was_ and Tommy felt like he was in heaven, pulling this dark angel closer and kissing him again and again for the rest of the night until he fell asleep with his lips still on his skin.

When he opens his eyes hours later, Nikki is already awake. Or maybe still awake, Tommy can never quite tell. He is lazily stroking patterns onto Tommy’s collarbone, fingers brushing softly against his skin in a way that makes the drummer’s heart beat just a little faster.

“Morning.”

His voice is soft, but Nikki pulls his hand back abruptly, green eyes darting up to meet his with a shaky smile, “Hi, morning, hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Tommy chuckled, and pulled him closer, burying his nose in messy black locks. Their chests pressed together, he could feel the slight hitch in Nikki’s breath, “Nah, you’re good. Besides, even if you had, I’d probably deserve it considering how many times I woke _you_ up the last few days.

Nikki laughed, and he relaxed a bit more in Tommy embrace, “Oh shit, I didn’t think of that. Tomorrow I’m definitely putting a cockroach on your face.”

“Fuck, I’m pretty sure they’d hear me screaming down at the Whiskey!” Tommy shuddered at the thought. He could only handle bugs when they were on the other end of a flamethrower, “Come on, forgive me? I was good last night, right?” He grinned mischievously at the way Nikki’s cheeks tinged red.

Scoffing, the bassist shoved at his chest lightly, “Not _that_ good, asshole.”

“True, the fact that you woke up before me means I’m not trying hard enough,” A look of exaggerated offense paints Nikki’s face, but before he can respond, Tommy is darting forward to kiss him.

Kissing Nikki is different during the day than it was at night. In the dark, despite Tommy’s elation, despite the joy and wonder and sheer love coursing through his veins, part of it didn’t feel real. Like if he let go of Nikki he would have never been there. Like he was always just a blink away from waking up and finding out it was all a dream.

But now, with the first rays of light starting to drift through the window, he can see every shade in Nikki’s green eyes when they widen in surprise. He can see the way Nikki leans towards him, chasing after him when he pulls back to breathe. He can see the tremor in Nikki’s smile, little pinpricks of disbelief escaping from behind the bliss.

Tommy giggled, “Fuck, you’re cute.”

“Shut up, I have a reputation.”

“You’re the cutest badass.”

“Fuck off.”

“But it’s true!”

“I’m going to shave your head in the middle of the night.”

“That won’t make it less true,” he laughed as Nikki glared half-heartedly. God, Tommy loved this boy. Stealing one last kiss, he reluctantly disentangled himself, sitting up to stretch his arms over his head, “Hm, I need coffee or something.”

“Trust me, you _never_ need caffeine,” Nikki smirked as Tommy shoved his arm playfully.

“Whatever, let’s see if this trash heap has any fucking food in it today,” standing, the drummer can’t help but smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so chipper to start the day. But then, he’s never had Nikki to start the day with. 

He’s only taken a few steps though when Nikki’s hand circles his wrist, tugging him to a stop, “Can we…” his eyes dart around the room as he hesitates, “Can we not… tell Mick and Vince about…. this... just yet?”

Tommy frowned, “Why? They won't care, dude. And if they do I’ll fight them. Or something,” he smiles, and Nikki chuckles lightly, but he doesn’t relax.

“I know, I know. I just…” He keeps pausing, keeps stalling, and it’s strange to see the bassist so uncertain. So unsteady. Like the aftershocks of the panic that shook him the night before. “Just for a little bit? Just for a little while, can this just be… ours?”

In all honesty, Tommy didn’t get it. He was never one for keeping secrets, especially when it came to his feelings for people. But this is important to Nikki, and Nikki is important to him. Besides, he figures, it’s not an unreasonable request.

So the drummer smiled, leaning forward to peck the other man on the lips, “Sure man, we’ll keep it to ourselves for now. No biggie.”

Nikki sighs softly in relief and _finally_ the tension starts to bleed out of him, “Thank you.”

As Tommy entwined their fingers, pulling the bassist out of the bedroom, there's a thought like a whisper in the back of his head.

_He's beautiful when he's not afraid._

~

The morning continues like normal, but better. Tommy still makes Nikki wait until noon to start drinking, Nikki still reads the ingredient list on a bag of Doritos and tries to argue why it totally counts as a balanced breakfast, and Tommy still eats cereal by the handful straight from the box.

But now when Nikki drops onto the couch, Tommy drops right on top of him, stretching out to cover his body and kiss him and they both laugh and make faces because cool ranch and sugar cereal is not the best mix of flavors but they keep kissing anyway. 

Time creeps forward, and soon it’s almost time for Mick and Vince to arrive for rehearsal. Tommy had every intention of kissing Nikki until the second the band walked through the door, but the bassist pulled away.

“Dude, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Yeah, so I get at least one more minute of you,” Tommy smirked.

Nikki rolled his eyes pushing the drummer gently, “You’re insatiable. Go set up your drums, fucker!” He laughed when Tommy pouted dramatically. Reluctantly, the drummer went and sat by his equipment while Nikki tuned his bass.

A few minutes later (_a few minutes of lost kisses_, Tommy thought bitterly) Mick arrived, walking in unceremoniously with a nod in the boys’ direction. This was directly contrasted five minutes later when Vince burst in, throwing the door open and spreading his arms dramatically, “Sup, bitches! You ready to rock?”

“We’ve literally just been waiting on you, blondie,” Mick deadpanned.

“You can’t rush perfection!”

“I can and I will, now get your ass in place,” Nikki dragged the singer over, shoving a handful of lyrics into his hands as Vince laughed. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing and practicing, each song polishing the four musicians into a real band. Tommy always loved these hours- he loved the music, but he loved the people even more. Watching Mick let loose and rock out passionately, and Vince dancing around the room, and Nikki grinning widely with his hair flying around his face. They bickered and teased and threw insults like breathing, but they always laughed, and when they finally called an end to practice they always stuck around to just hang out. More than bandmates- they were friends.

“We gotta start looking for a venue, we’ve almost got a full set down!” Nikki opened his beer enthusiastically, practically throwing the bottle cap in his excitement. 

“Ooooh, we should start planning our outfits,” Vince grinned, “If we want to make a statement, we gotta do it right!”

“Please, we all know you’re gonna raid your girlfriend’s closet the day before,” Mick raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched towards a smile.

Tommy laughed, “Dude, you have to admit, girl jeans are just _better_,” he dropped onto the couch between Nikki and Mick, throwing an arm around the bassist’s shoulders. He didn’t think anything of it. Until he felt Nikki tense next to him. 

His smile fell, just slightly, and when he looked at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, he could see him clutching his beer, knuckles almost white and a plastic smile on his face. He doesn’t pull away though. Tommy turns back to the others, not wanting to draw any attention to the other man, but inside he was just confused. He wasn’t doing anything blatant, or unusual. They were the terror twins- they were always close and affectionate. Hell, they had probably sat together in this position a hundred times before. If anything it’d be more suspicious if they _didn’t_ hang all over each other.

Nikki eased up a bit over time, but for the rest of the night Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was being more… deliberate. Like he was planning everything out in his head before moving or speaking or laughing. Like he was carefully calculating exactly where to be so he wasn’t too close or too distant from the drummer.

Tommy felt exhausted _for_ him.

Eventually, when all four reached a level of pleasantly buzzed, Mick left with a casual wave, and Nikki turned to Vince, “You going back to your girlfriend’s place?”

“Oh,” Vince’s eyes widened, even as he tried to speak with an air of dismissiveness, “nah, we decided it wasn’t really working out and-”

“She dumped your ass, didn’t she.”

“Wha- she did not! If anything, _I_ dumped _her_.”

“Suuuure you did,” Nikki laughed, Tommy snorting next to him.

Vince huffed, “We just decided we needed a little space, that’s all. She’ll be back in no time.”

Elbowing Nikki gently, Tommy grinned mischievously, “Hey Nik, you think Vince wants to get _in_ her pants or just _wear_ her pants?”

“Good point,” he snickered, “Better start groveling now, Vinnie, if you want her outfit for our first show.”

The two friends laughed as Vince threw one of the couch pillows at them, “Oh, screw you guys!” He couldn’t hide his smile though, “You’re just jealous ‘cause I get pussy _and_ free clothes.”

“True, I wish I was short enough to share my girlfriend’s clothes.”

“Okay, FUCK YOU!” jumping from his seat, Vince lunged at Nikki, who immediately leapt up and darted away, laughing maniacally as the singer chased him around the living room, jumping over the coffee table and knocking over empty bottles. Eventually, Vince got him in a headlock, both of them out of breath and laughing, “You motherfucker, I’m gonna light your fucking hair on fire!”

“Hey! You’re only allowed to light me on fire on stage!” Nikki fired back.

“Nobody is lighting anybody on fire!” Tommy declared, standing to pull the two apart as he giggled.

“Unless it’s on stage!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“... I’m not saying yes, but we can _discuss_ it,” Tommy relented, Nikki and Vince high-fiving each other in victory.

Exhausted and buzzed, Vince stretched dramatically before retreating to his room for the night. As much as Tommy loved the blonde, he couldn’t help but bounce on his toes in excitement at having Nikki all to himself again.

Which was why he pouted like a child when Nikki started heading to his own room, “Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going? My room’s this way!”

Nikki stopped abruptly, turning to look at Tommy in surprise, “Oh, I...I was just…” he jerks his thumb towards his room, lowering his voice a bit, “I mean, since Vince is back…”

“So?” Tommy grinned mischievously, “One, neither of us are busty chicks, so Vince barely pays attention to us anyway,” Nikki snorted, tilting his head with a wry smile of agreement. Smirking, the drummer continued, “Two, he’s always the first one to bed and the last one up so he’d probably never even notice,” he received a hum of acknowledgement, “And three,” he stretched the word out as he sauntered up to the bassist, “we’re just keeping warm in our shitty, cold apartment, right? Just sharing body heat. Nothing weird there. Definitely nothing happening in that bed other than keeping you from freezing to death. So nothing for Vince to think twice about.”

He wraps his arms loosely around Nikki's neck, grinning down at him. The bassist still seems hesitant, and he opens his mouth as if to object…

...But then his teeth click shut, and he gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, "You make a solid argument, T-Bone."

Tommy burst into a wide smile, too happy to dwell on any subtleties hiding in the other boy’s expression, "You're damn right I do," he tugged him forward back towards his own room, and Nikki followed easily.

Though he never seemed to fully relax that night.

~

Weeks pass like a rollercoaster. Up and down and up and down.

It’s up when Motley Crue has their first show, and after the unexpected brawl got broken up, they actually had a pretty decent set. After that, they were performing at least once a week, and the crowd got bigger each time, cheering and dancing and screaming for an encore. It was exhilarating, and so much fun, and all of them were practically giddy with excitement. 

Well. Almost.

It’s down because Nikki was happy, of course he was. But he was also terrified. Tommy could see it in the way he obsessed over their songs, tearing out pages and writing and rewriting and practicing on his own until Tommy found him plucking at his bass with bloody fingers. 

“I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he mumbled as the drummer pulled the bass away from him, “I’m fine, it’s fine, I just don’t want to fuck up.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say. So he settled for guiding Nikki to bed and stroking his hair until they both fell asleep. 

And it’s up, because God, Tommy loved him so much. He waited all day just for these moments where he could wrap Nikki in his arms, kiss every inch of his face, touch him, feel him, make him smile in the dark. He wouldn’t lie, it was hard at times, keeping it a secret. The drummer wanted nothing more than to shout his love for Nikki from the rooftops, to hold him close and kiss his hair and his cheek and his mouth at every opportunity. He wanted to brag to anyone who would listen and anyone who wouldn’t about how Nikki was _his_.

If Nikki wanted to keep things low-key for a bit though, Tommy could handle it. It was fine. 

But it also wasn’t. It was down, down, down, because the more time passed, the more Nikki felt like plastic under his hands. At first he could never relax when they were around the others, but now even when they’re alone he can feel Nikki weighing every action in his head. Planning and scripting, everything deliberate, conscious, stiff. After a few weeks it starts to feel like he’s sleeping with a mannequin- like he could move Nikki however he wanted, place him like a doll, turn him this way and that, and he’d comply without a word. 

Was Nikki even happy with him?

A shudder ran through him at the thought. He loved the bassist so Goddamn much, and he didn’t want to be insecure about them- after all, Nikki had kissed _him_, that had to mean something, right? But at the same time, he wondered if all the secrecy was because he was in this deeper than Nikki. Maybe the other man regretted it, or had only wanted something physical and not emotional, or realized he was embarrassed by Tommy or something. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he wasn’t sure if it made him want to punch a wall, or cry, or drink until he died.

He was well on his way to the last option that night, almost three weeks since he and Nikki had gotten together. Motley Crue had killed another show, fans practically throwing themselves at them, and the four band members had decided to celebrate with a night at the strip club.

To be honest though, Tommy was tired. He was frustrated, and lovesick, and just wanted to curl up with Nikki who didn’t want to curl up with him. But he couldn’t express any of that, not with all the fucking secrets, so instead he snorted some coke, did too many shots, snorted some _more_ coke, and sat right next to the main stage with Vince while Nikki and Mick relaxed at the bar across the room.

It helped a little, he supposed. The bright lights and loud music are a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and the drugs are starting to kick in, making him laugh a little easier. He’s got that hazy feeling in his peripheral vision when one of the dancers comes over and sets herself on his lap. He blinks a little in surprise, looking up at her plastic smile as she rolls her body against his. For a moment he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it’s almost funny, how quickly he forgot about other bodies beyond Nikki’s. Turning his head, he glances over at where the bassist is sitting with Mick. Nikki is already looking at him.

The room is swaying slightly, back and forth like a boat at sea, and it makes it hard to figure out what emotion he's seeing on Nikki's face. The stripper in his lap puts her hands on Tommy's neck and he figures Nikki is probably just jealous.

And that thought pisses him off.

How dare he feel jealous. Tommy would gladly trade the stripper for Nikki- would so much rather have the bassist sitting in his lap pressing closer and closer. But _he_ said no. He's the one who pulled away anytime there was a possibility of being caught. He's the one who couldn't bear to be seen with Tommy. He's the one who insisted on keeping Tommy his dirty little secret. Nikki’s not allowed to be jealous.

Putting his hands on the stripper's waist, Tommy pulled her closer. If Nikki didn't want anyone to know, well then, Tommy better keep up appearances.

He’s not really feeling it, but he plays up the lap dance anyway. Pettiness drives him to exaggerate his lust, performing just as much as the woman in his lap for the man he knew was watching.

When the dance is over, the stripper takes her tips and hurries off. In hindsight Tommy realizes he must have gotten a little too handsy, but he can’t bring himself to care, downing another shot instead. He is getting ready to flag down another dancer when he feels a hand on his shoulder. The room spins when he turns around, and he sways in his seat. He might have fallen over if it weren't for the hand holding him firmly. When his vision clears, Nikki is looking down at him, body stiff and face expressionless even as he tries to smile like he knows he’s expected to.

“Woah, steady there, T-Bone. How much have you had, dude?”

“Not _nearly_ enough,” Tommy stood up abruptly, shaking Nikki’s hand off even as he stumbled over his own feet. He gets a few steps before the bassist is at his side again, hands out to help his shaky movements.

“Seriously man, you seem pretty wasted. I was just gonna let you know I was heading out, but maybe you should come with…” he trailed off questioningly, and Tommy felt his anger spike.

Fuck this.

“No,” he pushed Nikki back a few steps, swaying on his feet at the motion, “I think I want to stay. Haven’t gotten my fill just yet, and there’s still plenty of girls who wouldn’t mind being seen with me,” the words sound distant to his own ears, but the harsh sarcasm bites through the haze of alcohol.

Nikki pauses, and then narrowed his eyes. Even piss drunk as he was Tommy could practically feel the temperature drop, “I don't know if you have enough cash for _anyone_ to want to be seen with you right now," his voice is cold and sharp, "so maybe you're better off going home and sleeping this off."

Tommy feels the rage swell, mixed with something like hurt, or sorrow, or both, "You seem upset, _babe_," he spits the word out and Nikki flinches back, eyes widening in surprise, "What's the matter? I do something wrong? Am I only allowed to pay attention to you when it suits you?"

Even through his fury, Nikki's eyes dart around nervously, "Shut the fuck up, Tom-"

"Why?" The drummer cut him off angrily, "I'm just shooting the shit with my _friend_, right? Unless there's something you'd like to share with the class," he spread his arms to gesture to the room, drawing a few glances.

There is a moment of standstill, where Nikki looks at him wide-eyed and hurt. But then his whole face steels, and when Nikki opens his mouth he could practically see the bassist sharpening the blade. When he speaks, it sounds like a hiss, "Keep this up and there won't be anything _to_ share."

Deep down, the sober part of Tommy feels a little bit gutted. As Nikki starts to walk away, that feeling crawls through the layers of alcohol and cocaine and insecurity, and by the time it reaches the surface it has morphed into desperate, frantic _rage_.

"Don't walk away from me!" He snaps, grabbing Nikki's wrist and jerking him back.

His grip is firm, even as the other boy tugs his arm to try to escape, snarling, "Don't fucking touch me!"

But Tommy holds tight, "You were the one who wanted this! You started this thing, so you don't get to just pick and choose when you want me around!"

"Back off, T-Bone," Nikki is tense, still trying to pull his arm free while Tommy gets more worked up.

"Oh, so now you _don't_ want me around? A minute ago you wanted my attention- What, you can't make up your mind, _baby_?"

Nikki flinched again, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, "I'm fucking serious, Tommy, let go!"

It _infuriated_ Tommy, and without even thinking, he heard himself snap out, "You'll crawl into my bed but you can't handle a fucking _pet name?_"

"Alright! Hey! Take a step back, drummer!" Mick was suddenly between them, breaking Tommy's hold on Nikki and pushing the teen back. He plants himself in front of the drummer, putting space between them. Separating the terror twins.

Later, Mick would reveal that he had no idea what the fuck the two kids were even fighting about- the loud music and hollering of the club patrons drowning out their words- but he saw Nikki with a look on his face like he was two seconds from tearing the drummer apart with his bare hands and figured he should step in.

As soon as he was released, Nikki stumbled away, clutching his wrist to his chest and staring at Tommy with wide eyes, wrathful and terrified. He speaks on an exhale, soft and breathy, "Fuck you, Tom."

Mick’s hand is still on his chest, and Nikki is backing away, all teeth and snarl and cold, cold, cold, like ice water over Tommy’s head and the last ten minutes slam into him all at once and he feels suddenly sober, sees the man he loves getting farther away, getting covered by the crowd, and he thinks about how often Nikki calls himself a runaway.

“Wait,” his voice starts as a whisper, rapidly growing in volume and desperation, “wait wait wait-!”

“_Go to Hell!_”

With that, Nikki breaks eye contact, finally turning around and running. And then he’s gone.

Tommy thinks he might cry. “Fuck,” his voice cracks on the word.

In front of him, Mick still blocks his way, hand up to discourage him when he starts to move forward, “Easy, drummer, just let him cool off-”

“No, Mick, I need to go now, I fucked up, I-”

“Give him some time and then-”

“No! I need to go now! What if he-!”

“Can you guys _please_ not get us kicked out of the best strip joint in town?”

Vince’s voice cut through the noise, sliding smoothly over to his struggling bandmates with a look that was a cross between annoyance and concern. 

Mick sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Nikki took off, go find him.”

“What? Why do _I_ have to babysit the bassist?”

“Would you rather babysit the drummer?”

“Yeah I’m going,” the singer had barely glanced at Tommy’s tearfilled eyes before turning on his heel and taking off in the direction Mick had pointed. 

“Mick, you don’t understand, I fucked up, I fucked up so bad,” and goddammit, Tommy was actually crying in a strip club. How had he been so angry not ten minutes ago? Where had that rage gone? He couldn’t find any of it now- only sorrow and regret.

He rubbed at his eyes furiously as Mick guided him to an open stool at the bar. And maybe Tommy was still drunk, and high, and falling apart, but the gruff guitarist seemed to soften, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “I’m sure you did. But just let the kid calm down a bit, and clear your own head. Unfortunately for the rest of us, I doubt there’s anything that could keep you two apart for too long.”

God, Tommy hopes that’s true. Because something is wrong- there is something disconnected in their relationship and he _hates_ it. He hates the hesitation that has held Nikki in a vice grip ever since they woke up that first morning. He hates how Nikki looks cornered the moment he enters a room. He hates the stiffness, the stutters, the silvery thread of fear in Nikki’s every motion.

It feels like those first few days of sleeping in the same bed- Tommy wanting nothing more than to make it better and only ever making it worse.

He hates it. But hating it won’t _fix_ it.

He and Nikki will have to do that together.

~

Once he’s sober and calm enough to walk without puking, Mick helps Tommy back to the apartment. He gets him to the front door before booking it, grumbling about not wanting to deal with anymore drama than he already has. He needn’t have worried though, because when Tommy opened the door, the apartment was dark and quiet. 

Walking down the hall to the bedrooms, he starts when Vince opens his door suddenly, “I thought I heard someone shuffling sadly,” he leaned against the doorway, offering a small smile to the drummer. 

When Tommy only shrugged in response, he sighed, “Well, I stopped Nikki from skipping town at least, but the rest is your problem. I’m getting the Hell outta dodge first thing in the morning in case you guys wanted to throw shit or... something,” he waved a hand dismissively as he turned back into his room, “So, yeah. Good luck, dude. I’m rooting for you.”

He closes the door before Tommy can burst into tears again. Because he wonders if Vince _should_ be rooting for him. Was he even any good for Nikki? Just a lovesick kid who let his temper get the best of him, who kept pushing away the person he said he loved. He wanted Nikki to be happy. But if he was honest with himself, more than that he wanted Nikki to be happy with _him_. He felt so selfish.

The door to Nikki’s room was closed, hiding its occupant for the first time in weeks. It takes him a moment to work up the courage, but eventually he manages a few hesitant knocks.

There’s no response.

He knocks again, leaning his head against the wood and closing his eyes, “Nikki?” His voice is soft and scared, and all he gets is silence. He keeps talking anyway, “Nikki, I…” swallowing thickly, he steels himself, “I’m sorry, Nikki. I’m so, so, sorry. I was just so frustrated with all the secrecy and-...” He shook his head to himself, “Wait, fuck, I don’t want to make excuses. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I’m so fucking sorry and _please_,” it takes effort to not make a sound when a few more tears escape, “please don’t give up on us yet.”

Tommy waits, and waits, and waits. But he never gets a reply. Eventually, he forces himself to back away, “Okay. We… we can talk tomorrow, okay?” As he turns to his own room, he makes sure his voice is loud enough to be heard through the door, “I love you, Nik.”

His room is too quiet. His bed is too big. His arms are too empty.

Sleep comes slow that night.

~

When Tommy wakes up, he has a raging hangover, and Nikki is sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Tommy bolts upright immediately, head pounding and room spinning slightly at the motion. Nikki stiffens a bit at the movement, but otherwise stays still, his back facing the drummer, head hung low and hands clutching the mattress. For a terrifying moment, Tommy has no idea who he is speaking to- his boyfriend, or his friend, or his band mate, or none of the above.

"Nikki-"

"You can tell them," the bassist's voice is quiet, but not soft. It is flat, dull, tired. He doesn't turn around as he speaks, dark hair hiding what little of his face Tommy might have been able to see, "Mick, and Vince, and... fuck, whoever you want. Tell anyone, tell everyone, make fliers, fuck me on stage, whatever. Do whatever you want. I don't fucking care."

Even facing away, even in the dark, Tommy could tell that Nikki absolutely fucking cared.

He wants to hold him, but he knows he can’t yet. So instead, he takes a deep breath and starts untangling his thoughts, “We should have talked about it, dude. You asked, and I said yeah but like, we should have actually discussed it.”

Nikki breathes sharply through his nose, “I’m sorry.”

“_No_, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” Tommy gestures vaguely, but Nikki still won’t look at him. Gathering up all his courage, he tells the truth, “I want to tell people because it’s hard to contain how I feel about you. Like, shit, I’m so fucking head over heels it takes physical effort not to blurt out how much I love you to anyone who looks our way, y’know?” Nikki’s head tilts just the slightest bit towards him, listening quietly. So Tommy continues, spitting out everything he’s been holding in, “I’ve got these feelings that I want to share with everyone, so I guess that… when you kept wanting to keep everything a secret, I just, I dunno, started to assume it was because you didn’t feel the same way, or were embarrassed by me or something.”

“That’s not it,” Nikki’s voice is breathy, and rushed, and honest. He shakes his head vehemently, desperate for Tommy to believe him, “I swear, that’s not it at all.”

Tommy wishes so badly that the other man would look at him. All he sees is the tremors down his hunched back, the hitch in his thin shoulders, hands clenched tight, leg bouncing rapidly. It’s so similar to the fear from the night they got together, and Tommy wants so badly to just stop scaring him.

“I know, Nik,” He says softly, “I get that now. But just… now you know. That’s why I want to tell them,” there is a pause before he continues, “Why don't _you_ want them to know?"

Nikki swallowed thickly before shaking his head slowly and mumbling, "It doesn't matter.”

"_Yes_, it does,” Tommy stresses, hands gripping the blankets around him in a desperation to just make him understand, “You _matter_, Nikki, and so do your opinions and feelings and fucking everything in between. I don’t want you to just go along with something because it’s what _I_ want.” 

Nikki's head drops a little lower, “It’s stupid…” 

“No, it’s not. I promise you, it’s not,” Tommy wants so badly to reach over and turn his face so he can look into his eyes. But he doesn't want to invade Nikki's space. Not yet. He's not ready yet. "I want to know what you’re feeling. Please?"

For a long minute, there is silence, Nikki's back stiff and still as he wages a war in his head. When he finally speaks, his voice cracks just slightly, "I don't want to jinx this."

Tommy frowned, shifting just a little bit closer, "What does _that_ mean?"

Nikki gripped the mattress tighter, knuckles white with anxiety, and he makes a noise that Tommy thinks is supposed to be a scoff but sounds like a sob, "I _told_ you it was stupid," he snarls, but Tommy has a sneaking suspicion it's not him Nikki is mad at.

"Hey, hey, that's not what I'm saying," he keeps his voice gentle and soothing, "it's not stupid. I just… want to understand better?" And it’s true. It’s so true. Tommy sits and prays because he just wants to understand.

Nikki's leg is still bouncing up and down rapidly, arms shaking from the effort not to collapse, jaw tense as he tries to force the words out. As he tries to find the words at all.

"This whole… thing… we have… it just feels so… so fucking fragile. I feel like if I breathe too hard it's all gonna crash around me like a fucking house of cards. And I'm trying not to be so damn, fucking… I don't know, _me_, I guess, but I feel like the second we let Vince and Mick in on what we have going on will be the second you realize how fucked up it is that someone like you would settle for a piece of shit like me. And then I'll have to deal with Vince and Mick making fun of me on top of trying to somehow piece myself back together after you ditch my ass and I don't know if I could handle that."

His voice cracks at the end, and he curls into himself a little more, and Tommy is pretty sure he’s going to start crying soon. This whole time he’d assumed that his feelings were obvious- that there was no way Nikki could possibly think he would ever leave him. He thinks back to the strip club the night before, to Nikki watching him get a lap dance, and he realizes Nikki wasn’t jealous at all. He was just sad.

"Nikki,” Tommy puts as much love and tenderness into the name as he can. He speaks it like the treasure it is, “Nikki. I _want_ to be with you. _You_, exactly as you are. I'm not going to cut and run just because things get rough or we get in a fight or whatever. If shit comes up we'll deal with it. Together.”

Finally, finally, finally, he allows himself to reach out, covering Nikki’s hand with his own. The bassist takes a shaky breath, slowly unclenching his hand. Tommy entwines their fingers together, stroking his thumb softly over his hand. Then, slowly, Nikki turns to look at him.

Tommy feels himself choke up at the sight of red rimmed eyes, black tracks of eyeliner running down pale cheeks with smudges where they had been half-heartedly wiped away. His lips quivers, and he only manages a moment of eye contact before looking down at their hands. He looks lost.

Maybe it’s too soon, but Tommy can’t help it. He scoots forward and pulls Nikki into his chest, wrapping his arms around him gently and resting his cheek against his hair.

He can feel the hitch in Nikki’s breath, “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers. He tucks himself deeper into Tommy’s hold and then, even softer, “but I don’t know how to be someone you want, either.”

“_I already want you_,” Tommy holds him tighter, leaves no room for argument, “Fuck, Nik, I’ve wanted you since the day we met. We can disagree, or get in a fight, or be mad at each other, or whatever bullshit and I will _still_ want you.”

A soft sob escapes the bassist as he hesitantly reaches up to wrap his arms around the drummer, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. Even as he tries to stay quiet, Tommy can feel growing dampness on his shirt, and he rocks them both gently as he cups the back of Nikki’s head.

“Relax,” he breathes, “Just _relax_.”

And then, after one last moment of hesitation, he does. 

It feels like a wire snapping, the way Nikki sucks in a breath and just sags in his arms, melting against him. All the tension that’s held him rigid for the past three weeks releases, and he gasps deeply, and Tommy wonders if he’s been holding his breath since that first morning they woke up together. He holds him as he catches his breath.

When they finally lay down, still tangled in each others’ arms, Tommy feels Nikki sigh against his collar bone. He rubs his hand up and down Nikki’s back, and smiles into his hair.

“I got you, dude. We’re a team- we’re in this together from now on, okay?”

Nodding slowly, Nikki replies softly, “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Closing his eyes, he huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh, “Fuck. I love you so fucking much.”

“I know,” Tommy pulls him even closer, “I love you too.”

~

It’s not always easy, but it’s better. 

Sometimes Nikki panics, and Tommy has to remind him to loosen up, to move, to _breathe_. But when he does, oh, he’s reminded why he fell in love with him in the first place.

He hadn’t even realized how much he missed his best friend until he got him back. After all those weeks of Nikki tip-toeing and tearing himself apart, Tommy could cry at the return of the terror twin he loved so much. Even as they continued to keep their relationship to themselves, Nikki was learning to relax when the band was together, leaning into Tommy’s touch, joking, laughing loud and free. He's filling up his own body again after weeks of hollowing himself out.

Two weeks later, Tommy, Nikki, and Mick are backstage before another show. Mick is strumming lazily at his guitar while Nikki pesters Tommy to hold still so he can fix his damn eyeliner when the door burst open.

“Guys, guys, guys, guys GUYS!” Vince slid into the dressing room, hair flying around his face and practically jumping up and down, “You’re not gonna believe this!”

“I swear to God, if it’s got anything to do with tits, I’m going to strangle you,” Mick deadpanned.

Vince scoffed in offense, “No! This is legit, guys!” He leaned in conspiratorially, “We are officially, SOLD OUT!”

“No fucking way!” Nikki stood abruptly, excitement and disbelief on his face.

“Yes fucking way!” Vince exclaimed, “There is a line down the street that they’re turning away because we packed the fucking house!”

“No _fucking_ way!” laughing gleefully, Tommy and Nikki whoop and holler, shouting expletives in their excitement as Mick shook his head slowly. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I think we’re actually a good fucking band,” Mick brought his hands to his hair, trying and failing to supress a wide grin. The guitarist laughs as Vince, Tommy, and Nikki jump up and down. The four bandmates clap each other on the backs, and hug, and cheer at their success, and the energy gets higher and higher, and Nikki grabs Tommy’s shirt and pulls him into a deep kiss.

Tommy let out a soft noise of surprise, eyes widening for just a moment before grinning into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the other man to pull him impossibly closer. When they finally part they’re both laughing.

They’re so caught up in each other that they almost miss Vince groaning and reluctantly slapping a twenty dollar bill into Mick’s waiting palm, the guitarist smirking victoriously. 

“Oh, fuck you guys!” Nikki laughed, he and Tommy flipping the other two off in sync. 

“Mick, why don’t you hold me like that?” Vince pouted sarcastically.

“I’m not convinced your stupidity isn’t contagious,” Mick raised an eyebrow as Vince gasped dramatically.

Nikki laughed, and Tommy wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on the bassist’s shoulder as they watched their bandmates bicker. He could feel Nikki melt back into him even as he bounced on his toes in excitement and Tommy didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his life.

Eventually, Nikki pulled away, clapping his hands together, “Alright, alright, enough bitching!” He threw his arms around Vince and Mick, “We got a fucking show to do!”

“Hell yeah!” They grabbed their equipment, each taking one last glance in the mirrors to make any last adjustments to their hair or makeup before heading out to the stage, adrenaline high and triumph running through their veins.

As they exit the dressing room, Nikki grabs Tommy’s hand, grinning widely and eyes shining, “Let’s give ‘em what they came for, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” leaning in, he gave his boyfriend one last quick kiss. 

“Let’s rock the fucking house.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr @motherfucker-oftheyear


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